


ivory

by braveatheart



Category: Supergirl (TV 2015)
Genre: F/F, GUYS, I love these gays so much, i meant guys, no i didnt
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-11-20
Updated: 2017-11-20
Packaged: 2019-02-04 15:00:34
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,294
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12773511
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/braveatheart/pseuds/braveatheart
Summary: Sometimes, Kara just listens.ORKara hears Lena playing piano late in the night, and she can't help but follow the sound.





	ivory

**Author's Note:**

> Hello! So I wrote this in two nights, both when I was extremely tired... but I hope this is still enjoyable!

Sometimes, Kara simply listens.

She comes home to her empty apartment, weary, alone. Sometimes her day was good; filled with laughter, warmth. Sometimes, it is bad, and she feels the emptiness of having loved and lost. Sometimes the emptiness threatens to swallow her whole. She can’t stop hearing her own racing thoughts, the way everything echoes in her hollowed out chest.

So she listens. She sits on her couch, the lights low and television silent, allows her eyes to fall shut. She breathes in, listening to the rush of air as it fills her lungs. She listens to the way it flows slowly through her nose as she exhales. 

Soon, the sounds of the city distract her. She’s grown used to tuning it all out, now, after years of practice. She used to struggle with unintentional eavesdropping, intruding upon other’s lives. They could never know what secrecies her ears might have picked up, of course, but she still felt as though she had intruded. Now, when she can no longer hear the sounds of her emptiness and her thoughts, she listens unabashedly. She listens to the bustle of friends out on the town, the bumping of music from nightclubs, the honks of impatient drivers. She listens to the whispered words of love, the cry of a newborn baby. The laughter of happy families. She’s heard all there is to hear, but still, it is better than hearing herself.

On this particular chilly February night, she stands out on her balcony, the winter winds whipping against her cheeks. She’s near freezing, but it’s just another sensation to focus on. She doesn’t pass up the opportunity though she shivers against the breeze. Snow falls delicately, and her eyes pick up the unique patterns. The beauty of the crystals nearly brings a smile to her lips. Though she tries, she simply can’t. Not tonight.

Her eyes fall shut, and the tears that have gathered in her eyes from the wind wet her eyelashes. 

Deep breath in, slow breath out. Listen.

There’s the usual sounds; horns, babies, laughing families. Somewhere a couple argues about whether he should take the job or not. A woman sobs with joy as she chokes out a “yes.” A heartbeat flutters, missing a beat, and a nervous chuckle follows. 

Suddenly, an unusual sound cuts through the normalcy. Kara’s ear moves upward slightly. She furrows her brows, the crinkle surely making its way to the bridge of her nose, and she focuses in on this unusual sound. 

Gentle fingers dance across ivory keys, a beautiful melody flowing from them. It is slow and haunting, and Kara swears she’s heard it before, but she can’t place where. She can hear everything; the notes themselves, the clicking of the hammers hitting the strings within the piano, the movement of the sustain pedal, the tap of long, manicured nails against the ivory. The soft humming accompanying the melody. 

Kara’s eyebrow quirks upward. She recognizes that voice. 

Before she can think, she’s in the air. She rushes through the frigid winds, wincing as the cold bites at her cheeks. The melody grows louder as she comes closer. Suddenly, she’s hovering outside a familiar window. She catches sight of her reflection; she’s in baggy pajama pants and an oversized sweater, and she’s still wearing her glasses. She can only hope that no one decides to look up. As for the person sitting beyond the glass… she doesn’t worry about that yet.

The woman’s slender, porcelain-white fingers move effortlessly across the keys. Her eyes are shut, and there’s a small, content smile on her face as she hums along to the music. She’s dressed in a familiar National City University sweatshirt, one that Kara would have worn had it been in her closet like usual, and a pair of black sweatpants. Kara chuckles as she sees the black stilettos discarded next to the bench, a stark contrast to the rest of the outfit. Still, she would never expect anything less from this woman.

The melody softens and slows to a halt, and for a moment Kara thinks the piece is over. However, the woman’s right hand stays still, poised above the keys. The sound reverberates, the moment suspended in time. 

Ever so softly, pale fingers meet the keys once again, a familiar motif flowing softly from them. It is ever so quiet, and Kara listens even harder to pick up every last note. The last section of the song is merely the same few notes played over again, but there’s something captivating about it. Kara’s breath is caught in her throat as she listens and watches intently. 

When the last note is played, so soft it must be nearly inaudible to the human ear, something is stirred in Kara. Her chest aches as longing spreads through her. The music plays over again in her mind, each note only adding to the melancholy feeling coursing through her.

The woman looks up, now, directly out the window where Kara is hovering in plain view. Kara gasps, having momentarily forgotten about being undisguised. 

Lena, however, is unfazed. She simply stands from the bench and pads barefoot over to the balcony. She curls her index finger toward her, beckoning for Kara to come closer.

Kara lands on the balcony, hissing against the cold beneath her feet, and approaches the glass sliding door. Lena opens it and pulls her in quickly, shuddering as the icy wind wooshes toward her. The door is closed just as quickly as it’s opened, and for this Kara is grateful; she hadn’t realized how cold she was until she was inside and warm once again.

“You look exhausted,” Lena says nonchalantly, her eyes darting between Kara’s dark and sunken ones. She pushes a lock of unruly blonde hair behind the Kryptonian’s ear, as if to get a better look for confirmation. 

Kara furrows her brows and attempts to retort, but all that comes out is a series of incoherent, unconnected sounds that sound more like clicks than anything. She searches for words, but finds none.

“Oh come on, did you really think I didn’t know?” Lena asks, smiling triumphantly. “Those glasses don’t fool anyone.”

Kara breathes out a sigh of relief as she realizes that Lena isn’t angry, and she chuckles at the brunette’s words. “Yeah, I guess not.”

Lena smiles softly in response. 

“Not that I mind the company, but why are you here at 1:30 in the morning?” Lena asks, nodding toward the analog clock behind them. Kara spins on her heels, swearing it wasn’t that late. Sure enough, it’s 1:30 on the dot. She’d lost track of time as she tossed and turned, and hadn’t even thought to check it before she took off.

“Why are you awake at 1:30 in the morning?” Kara retorts, grinning. 

“Sleep does not come easily,” Lena replies, smiling half-heartedly. She, too, has dark circles beneath her eyes. Her hair is a frizzy mess, and it occurs to Kara how exhausted she truly looks. Kara wonders if she’s even slept a wink. Still, it doesn’t appear that either of them will be able to sleep soon, so she decides not to comment.

“I didn’t know you played piano,” she says in awe, glancing over at the beautiful white grand piano off to the side. It must have been moved in just recently, for she can’t recall ever seeing it before. She’s fairly certain she’d remember a giant piano in Lena’s office.

“My mother forced me to learn when I was young, to stand out… to be skilled somehow,” Lena replies, turning toward the instrument. She strides over to it, practically gliding across the wooden floors, and settles herself in the center of the bench. “I suppose she didn’t realize I would end up loving it.”

Kara smiles sadly, picturing a little Lena on a piano bench, being scolded for missing a note or two. She sighs to herself and pushes the thought out of her mind. Lena is not that girl anymore; she’s here, older, stronger.

Now, she sits on the bench with joy, no one there to criticize her every note. She looks up at Kara almost expectantly, and pats the empty space next to her. Kara grins and pads across the room. Her bare feet are still freezing, but she ignores the sensation so that she may focus on the woman sitting next to her.

“What were you playing, just then?” she asks, her tired eyes glancing over to Lena. 

“This?” Lena asks. She lifts her right hand and plunks out the melody she’d been playing a few minutes before, and Kara nods. 

“Have you ever seen La La Land?” Lena asks. “It’s a musical, it came out in theaters last year.”

Kara shakes her head, surprised at herself for having not seen any musical ever. Musicals are yet another of her escapes, and she realizes that she hasn’t turned to that in a while. She makes a mental note to put in Wizard of Oz when she gets home, knowing she may not sleep much at all tonight.

“One, we need to watch it as soon as possible. It’s beautiful,” Lena gushes, her eyes lighting up as she seems to recall the movie. “Two, I was playing a piece from the movie. It’s called Epilogue, and it encapsulates the most significant pieces from the soundtrack into one piece.”

“A medley,” Kara defines, and Lena nods. 

“It’s a long song. There’s one theme that repeats over and over, the one associated with the couple in the movie, and it’s essentially played in different tempos and styles throughout the film and this final song,” the raven haired woman explains, absently playing the common motif on the lower end of the piano. 

“How much of it have you learned?” Kara asks, pulling her sweater closer to her in attempt to warm herself. 

“All of it,” Lena admits sheepishly after a beat of silence, as if she doesn’t want to admit to her accomplishment.

Kara smiles in content. It’s cute, she thinks, the way Lena is so humble and modest. She bites her lip to keep her tired mind from spilling these words, and instead thinks of another phrase to replace it.

“May I hear it?” she asks. “I mean, you totally don’t have to. It’s super late, and I know you’re probably tired, and - “

“Kara.”

Lena’s right hand has come off the keys and is wrapped around hers, now, catching her off guard. She stutters, her stampede of rambling thoughts coming to a screeching halt. Blue eyes bashfully flit upward, and they are met with emerald orbs full of amusement. Kara curses herself for the blush that creeps up into her cheeks. She resists the urge to look down, willing herself to maintain eye contact with the Luthor.

“I would love to play for you,” Lena replies, grinning widely. She’s mocking Kara, ever so slightly, but the blonde can’t say she minds. “However, it might be wise for you to stand. I must have full range of motion and access to every last key, because Mr. Hurwitz will allow no less.”

Kara simply assumes that she’s referring to the composer and smiles, because of course Lena would even know the name of the composer. She stands with a small bow, earning herself a gentle slap to the arm. 

Lena turns around and faces the piano once more, her hands resting just over the keys with the utmost grace. She takes a deep breath, then begins.

Oh, how she plays. In the softest moments, she sways with the music, her fingers dancing across the ivory without effort. They seem to glide, almost. Her eyes fall shut occasionally, fingers moving to their own accord, as she simply feels the music. When the music reaches more intense parts, Kara can hardly breathe as Lena pounds her fingers into the keys. She plays with such force and conviction, and Kara can’t turn away. She’s absolutely mesmerized, frozen in place.

Soon, she reaches the end of the piece that Kara heard from outside the office window. It’s a swing section, soft and lilting. Every time Lena reaches the top note of the phrase, she raises her eyebrow ever so slightly. Kara decides that it’s endearing, and finds herself smiling to herself every time the raven haired woman does it. 

The soft swing section ends just as quickly as it starts, resolving perfectly into the familiar theme that she’s heard several times now. It’s much softer and slower than before, and Lena’s expression is captivating. She watches the way her fingers move with a quiet intensity, as if there’s nothing else in the room but her and the piano. Kara’s lips part slightly as she watches Lena, unable to move. 

When Lena finally plays the last note, what feels like an eternity later, Kara is speechless. 

Lena doesn’t move at first. She stays immobile, her eyes locked on the last note she played, hardly breathing. Finally, she takes a sharp breath and shakes her head slightly to bring herself back to reality. She spins on the bench, pulling her legs over to the other side so that she can face Kara. There’s a serene expression on her face, one Kara’s not certain she’s ever seen. 

“Did you like it?” Lena asks softly. It makes Kara’s heart ache, the way Lena’s looking at her almost for approval. She can only imagine the endless rejections she’s heard in her lifetime.

“That was beautiful, Lena,” Kara breathes out. She doesn’t trust her voice, and she doesn’t have to. Lena doesn’t ask for anything more.

Instead, she reaches out and takes Kara’s hand, guiding her back to the bench. It’s as though their exhaustion has hit them both all at once. Kara nearly stumbles into the bench, but Lena helps to steady her as she sits down. A slender arm snakes around her torso, holding her in place. Kara doesn’t hesitate as she rests her head on Lena’s shoulder, allowing her warmth to put her at ease.

They stay like this in silence for a few minutes. Again, Kara listens.

This time, though, it’s not to everything happening in the city. She can’t hear any fighting couples, newborn babies, honking horns. She can only hear the sound of Lena’s steady heartbeat, their deep breaths, and the tick of the clock behind them as it grows ever later into the night. It must be nearing two in the morning, and Kara knows for a fact they both need to be into the CatCo offices at eight. She wonders for a moment if perhaps her boss could work a way for them to come in later, but she doesn’t entertain the thought. She’s far too tired to think about tomorrow.

“We really need to sleep,” she insists, and Lena nods gently, her chin pressing into the top of Kara’s head.

“You’ll freeze if you fly home,” Lena says, her arm instinctively tightening around Kara to keep her warm. Kara smiles, grateful for the contact, and scoffs lightly.

“I can be home in a second, Lee,” she retorts, and Lena chuckles. 

“Perhaps you’d like company… for body heat,” she offers. She freezes, immediately realizing what she’s just said.

“Wait, I - sorry, that was out of line,” she rambles. “I don’t think when I’m tired, I just talk, and sometimes -”

“Lena.”

This time, it’s Kara’s turn to cut off the rambling. Lena stutters to a halt, then lets out a heavy breath. Kara sits up and they meet eyes. Lena’s immediately soften, and Kara can’t help the smile that tugs at her lips at the sight.

“You’re right… it is pretty cold out there,” she says, grinning. Lena lets out a sigh of relief and smiles, her eyes falling shut. 

“Come on,” Kara urges, gently attempting to pull them upwards. Lena groans, her head falling forward so that their foreheads meet. She lets out a whine of discontent. Her breath is hot against Kara’s lips, and the blonde pretends she doesn’t notice. (She also pretends it doesn’t send a shiver down her spine. Certainly not.)

“I’m too tired,” Lena murmurs. Kara chuckles to herself. An idea pops into her mind, one she may later regret. Still, in her exhausted state, she decides to pursue it anyway.

“Alright, you asked for this.”

In one swift movement, the two of them are outside in the frigid air, the office’s lights off and sliding door locked shut. Kara has one arm beneath Lena’s knees, the other wrapped tightly around her shoulder. Lena lets out a squeak of surprise, and Kara snorts in amusement. The Luthor wraps her arms around Kara’s neck so tightly she’s nearly choking, but she doesn’t mind. Instead, she flies without thought.

They come in through the window, both of them landing on their bare feet with a wince. It’s so dark that without superhuman vision, Kara wouldn’t be able to see a thing. She imagines Lena’s nearly blind as they stumble through her apartment, making their way to Kara’s bedroom. Lena leans against the doorframe as Kara fumbles her way toward a source of light.

“I didn’t really ask… is this okay?” Kara asks sheepishly as she flips on the lamp. 

Lena looks back at her and gives a slow nod, and Kara’s taken aback by how… soft she looks. Her expression is gentle and subdued, a stark contrast to the CEO and boss she sees in the light. Her eyes droop as she attempts to stay awake, and she looks exhausted to her very core. Strands of hair go every which way, mussed and windblown from their trip here. 

“You’re staring,” Lena teases halfheartedly, her voice low and scratchy from her tiredness. Kara feels her heart skip a beat at the sound.

“You’re beautiful.”

The words slip out before she can stop them, and she almost regrets them.

Almost.

They crawl beneath the bunched up comforter, skewed from hours of restlessness, and pull it up to their chins. Kara pulls Lena close to her still-shivering body. Sleep is pulling her in quickly, but she’s not ready to give in just yet.

There’s a million words coursing through her mind, racing so quickly that she can’t slow down enough to voice them. She feels flustered and speechless.

So, she listens.

Lena’s nearly asleep now. Her breathing has slowed, and her heartbeat is one continuous steady rhythm. She hums in content as Kara’s thumb draws small lines up and down her shoulder, and the sound reverberates comfortingly in Kara’s ears. The city is still alive outside, but there’s nothing else she’d rather hear than the woman in her arms.

One coherent thought comes to the front of her mind, and she bites back a chuckle so as not to startle the nearly asleep woman. 

“Can we go into work late?” Kara whispers into the darkness. She feels Lena’s cheek press into her chest, right over her heart; a grin.

“We could just not go in at all,” she suggests, and Kara chuckles. She feels giddy and bubbly, and she hopes for a fleeting moment that this feeling never fades. Her lips press tentatively against Lena’s forehead.

Lena leans into the kiss, breathing a sigh of content before placing a kiss on Kara’s exposed collarbone. It all feels natural, yet new.

“I like that idea,” Kara replies, finally, and Lena gives a gentle hum of acknowledgement. She’s just barely conscious, and Kara decides that’s a good enough response for her. She shifts slightly, settling into the bed. Her eyes finally fall shut at half past two in the morning.

The last thing she registers is the steady thrum of Lena’s heart as it lulls her into the most peaceful sleep she’s had in months.


End file.
